It was with heavy hearts and doleful countenances that the young inventors soon afterward drove into the city and, having put the Flying Racer up at a garage, set out on foot for Mr. Bowler’s offices.
They found him to be a large, rather stern man, who plainly was exceedingly put out by their news. However, he communicated at once with the police, and was assured that a sharp lookout would be kept for the yellow auto.
“What do you think of notifying Mr. Peregrine?” inquired Jack.
“I don’t think the time is yet ripe for that,” was the reply, which rather relieved the boys’ minds; “Mr. Peregrine, as you have doubtless observed, is a very nervous man, and I don’t wish to cause him a shock until we are sure we have done all we can to recover his property. Allow me to say,” he added, “that you did a very unwise thing in leaving that machine unguarded. However, I suppose you are not so much to blame as might appear on the face of it.”
“Just as if we didn’t feel badly enough already,” said Jack, as they left the office. Mr. Bowler had promised to notify Mr. Peregrine in a non-committal way of their arrival, but to withhold the news of their misfortune for the present. It was also arranged that the boys should stop in Boston for a day or so, in order to try and identify the men, or pick up some clue of value. Mr. Bowler promised to explain the cause of their continued absence to Mr. Peregrine over the long-distance telephone.
Under ordinary circumstances the lads would have devoted at least a part of their time in Boston to sight-seeing. But they were in no mood for this, and, having registered at a quiet hotel, they went at once to their room to talk matters over. But, as might have been expected, their deliberations did not lead them to anything definite. In fact, the more they discussed the case, the more hopeless did it appear to become.
They ate a melancholy enough supper in the hotel and, after disposing of the meal, sallied forth; more because there didn’t seem anything else to do than in the hope of picking up any information concerning the missing model. They walked through gaily lighted streets, and after a while reached a part of the city that was not so well illuminated, and where evidences of squalor and poverty began to abound. The thoroughfares were narrow and dark, and the houses more like rookeries than decent dwelling-places.
In and out of dark doorways, sordid, ragged men and women slipped in a furtive sort of fashion.
“My, we are in the slums with a vengeance!” exclaimed Jack.
“Yes, let’s go back. I don’t much fancy this part of the city, and some of those men look desperate enough for anything.”